


Who'd Have Known?

by thegoldenkittenking (empty_cup_and_a_chipped_heart)



Series: Cherokee Roses [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Because I felt cheated, Daryl and Sophia bonding, F/M, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Pre-Series, Sort Of Fluff, also a warning for Daryl Dixon language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-11-03 11:09:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10966005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/empty_cup_and_a_chipped_heart/pseuds/thegoldenkittenking
Summary: Carol and Sophia Peletier accidentally befriend the grumpiest redneck this side of the apocalypse.





	1. Chapter 1

Carol sits outside her tent on an old folding chair, keeping an eye on her daughter while listening to Ed complaining about a lack of cold beer. His shadow looms over, keeping her in place. She wants to snap at him, tell him that there are bigger problems than a lack of properly chilled alcohol. It isn’t worth the fallout though, her wrist still throbbing from last night. The night before she asked if Ed would keep the fire low-- just to keep them all safe. He considered it sass though, and reminded her of his feelings on back talk. Or what he considers sass to be, She adjusts her sleeves nervously, doing her best to nod in all the correct places.  
Shane walks over to them, shoulders back. Resolute.  
“Hey Ed. Hello Carol.” She gives Shane a small smile-- she walks a fine line. “Remember, don’t feed your fire too much tonight. You’re gonna attract walkers.” Shane smiles again, all amiable camaraderie, and claps Ed on the back. Ed sneers at his retreating back and then promptly launches into a tirade against him. Carol listens patiently while she watches Sophia play with Lori’s son Carl. They are playing War, slamming cards down as fast as they possibly can, and laughing loudly. Sophia’s laugh carries and she stops immediately, casting her mother a nervous look. Carol smiles as reassuringly as she can. Ed’s too wrapped up in his anger to pay his daughter any attention.  
Ed complained endlessly during their forced evacuation, his ire growing with every passing hour. Carol bore the brunt of his anger, relieved when they finally met up with the others. It hadn’t lasted long though, once she realized that being with their newfound group would stay his hand for only so long.  
Ed’s up for watch soon and she cannot wait for him to leave. Carol has chores to attend to, and Ed hates it when she works for others. He loves watch and the feeling of being in charge of them all. Like he was a king, sitting with a gun slung across his lap looking down upon his vassals. Finally, Dale’s watch is done. When they were assigning chores to each member of camp, Ed asked for watch. Probably wanting to keep a constant eye on her and Sophia but then he later realized that lording over everyone was just as enjoyable.  
Once Ed is situated on the RV, Sophia runs up to her with a bright smile on her face. “Mom? Can I go play tag with Carl and the Morales?”  
“Daddy’s on watch baby.” She hates to say no to Sophia, since now she has friends to play with. But Ed has never liked it when she played with others. Especially loudly or to energetically. Sophia’s smile falters and her shoulders sag. Her smile is back in a moment, though a little dimmer than before.  
“Oh. Maybe I’ll just stay and read. I only have a few chapter left of Dealing with Dragons.” She settles on the blanket Carol laid out that morning, lying on her stomach and picks up her book and Carol picks up a pair of pants to mend. None of her skills translate to this new world, not that she had many Before. She’s taken up almost every menial task that can be found around camp-- cooking, wash, mending. Anything to feel useful.  
A short while later, she looks up from her mending to find the younger Dixon sitting across camp attempting to patch the holes in his jeans. It surprises her, he seemed content to wear his pants until they turned into rags. In the last week Carol has known him, he hasn’t changed his pants once. They’ve grown increasingly dirty and ragged throughout the last week, not that they had been in a decent condition to begin with.  
The Dixons had shown up on the back of a motorcycle at dusk. Shane still didn’t quite trust them and Ed had a few choice things to say about them and their redneck ways, but they were indispensable. The two of them single-handedly fed the entire camp, and in Carol’s book that made up for most of their shortcomings.  
Daryl cursed a blue streak as he failed yet again to thread his needle. Yesterday he’d come back from hunting looking like he’d fought a bramble bush and lost. And took a good dunking in a mud puddle while he was at it. He’d offered up no explanation but looked downright murderous. No one tried to press the issue. Carol glances at Ed, facing away from her and Daryl.  
She walks over quickly, glancing at Ed once again. Focused on his needle, Daryl doesn’t notice her.  
She clears her throat, hoping to catch his attention. He looks up at her, confused and a bit aggressive.  
“I can do that. For you. I can fix it for you. I mend everyone else’s clothes.” Inwardly she cringes at how terribly awkward she is. “I’m Carol,” she adds on as an afterthought, realizing belatedly they’ve never been introduced. Her eyes flicker over to Ed once more. She hopes Ed doesn't see her. The last time she spoke to a man unchaperoned she sported the bruises for days. She wants to help Daryl though. Make him feel that his hunting is appreciated and convince herself that maybe she isn’t entirely useless.  
He nervously chews the side, eyes narrowing as he appraises her, seeing if she’s honest or not.  
Finally he grunts and places his pants carefully into her hands.  
“I know,” he mumbles, standing up and brushing off his other pair of pants. Carol gives him a small smile, and then turns to head back over to her tent. As she turns her back she hears him add a quiet “thanks.” Her smile grows, just a bit.  
Sophia looks at her with open curiosity as Carol returns but says nothing turning back to her book.  
Carol adds Daryl’s pants to her basket of mending, hoping to get them patched before Ed’s done with watch. Life hardly ever works out in her favor though, and after helping Lori and Andrea with laundry and righting a cooking mishap, she isn’t able to get around to them until after dinner. By this point she’s prepared an entire defense in case Ed notices. Not that it will matter, but she never knows how his moods will go.  
Thankfully, he doesn’t even notice much less bring it up. He’s focused on pissing off Shane, feeding the fire until it’s even bigger than the night before. She’s taken on the mending of the entire camp, so how could Ed really know. For all he is aware, they’re anyone’s. Shane’s or Jim’s or Glenn’s. Briefly she wonders why it feels like so much more, like it’s something important. She brushes off the feeling though, refusing to entertain the idea of a better future. Thoughts like that only ever lead her into a hole of repressed anger and sadness. She’s stuck with Ed and she’ll make the best of it.  
The next morning Carol walks over to Daryl and his brother’s usual spot. She lays the newly stitched pants on what she assumes is his bedroll-- it’s cleaner and better kept than the other-- and walks away. Everything he owns his neat and tidy, his crossbow is a gleaming example of this. It’s one of the few things he owns and the one he puts the most care into. The only thing he can’t keep moderately clean is himself. Next time, she’ll see if she can convince him to let her wash his jeans.  
***  
Finding his ancient, ratty pair of jeans neatly folded and mended on his pillow, surprised him. It shouldn’t have, but Daryl never expected anyone to put that much care into something. Especially something that was done for him.  
He watches her and her little girl out of the corner of his eye as he cares for his crossbow. His shadowy corner of camp means they have no chance of noticing his attention. Not that he cares. Her dumbass husband is off fucking around in the woods. Daryl’d overheard him bragging about going off today and hunting. Like he could catch anything, Ed’s loud as fuck.  
Between the bragging and the constant whining about his fucking beer, Daryl’s nerves were frayed. He’s tempted to shoot Ed in the gut just to shut him up.  
Ed stoked his fire to high yet again. Shane stalks over to him, about to chew him out for the fourth night in a row. If Shane just stood down and let Ed fuck around, Ed’d stop. He’s only doing it because it gets such a rise out of Shane. Still, it’s amusing to watch, Shane is barely holding it together anymore, and each night just brings them one step closer to a full blown altercation. Not that Daryl would mind. He’s like to see Ed get the shit beat out of him.  
“Watchin’ over Mouse and Mouselet again?” Merle asks, too loudly, sitting down across from Daryl. “Saw your pants was delivered to your pillow this mornin’.”  
“Shut up,” he mutters turning back to his abandoned crossbow. He instantly regrets telling Merle about his pants. He’ll do anything to get a rise out of Daryl. Like using his nicknames for Carol and her daughter. Merle nearly had himself in stitches after coming up with a name for Carol and her kid. Thought he was downright clever.  
“Should go in there and kick his ass. Play her white knight.” Daryl scowls at this, refusing to dignify it with a response. He ain’t no knight. He picks up the stick he’d been using to stoke the fire and starts drawing in the dirt at his feet. The crossbow lays at his feet.  
Merle persists. “Ya never know. Maybe she’ll be so thankful, you’ll get laid little brother.”  
“Ain’t gonna save her. She can save herself.” He picks up his bolts, thinking he should clean them again There’s still a blood staining one of the bolts and he rubs at it furiously. Carol doesn’t need someone like him.  
“Ya ever met a woman in her situation that saved herself?” Merle asks pointedly. His thoughts drift to his mama and he shudders. Merle continues, “Ya want little Mouslet to face--”  
Daryl stands up immediately and walks away. There’s something boiling in his stomach and making it’s way up his spine and spreading through his limbs. He needs to take a walk, to get away from it all.  
Daryl knows what happens to women like Carol and children like Sophia. Carol’ll be fine though. She has to be.  
***  
He figures it to be well past midnight by the time he makes it back to camp. He’s checked the perimeters twice and took down a walker. Could be a stray one or they’re beginning to move out of the city and look for food sources. Which ain’t any good. He doesn’t think their group could handle a herd. They only have so much ammo and only a few actually know how to work firearms. That’d been one of the reasons Merle chose them as their next targets to rob. Daryl wondered if Merle still plans to or if he is caught up in whatever the fuck goes on in his head. They’ve stayed with this group longer than any of the others. So maybe Merle means to settle. Daryl sure as fuck hopes so. He hates moving around so much.  
The Asian kid had watch tonight. Daryl nods as he enters the line of sight hoping the kid can see him. Doesn’t wanna get mistaken for a walker and then get shot in the head. Not a great way to end-- start-- his day.  
He is about to turn in when he spots someone still sitting around the embers of a fire. It’s Mouse, sitting with her hands around her stomach like she’s hurting. He means to turn back, to go to bed, but his feet carry him over to her.  
“Ya okay?” he asks. What’s possessed him? She doesn’t need him around. Or his help?  
“I’m fine.” She grimaces when she moves. “The stars are beautiful.”  
They are. “Yeah, easier to see without any of that light pollution crap.”  
Her smile is real and beautiful and she laughs lightly. “Who’d have known that the apocalypse would bring about something good?”  
They stay like that for a few more moments. Her sitting, bathed in firelight, while he stands in front of her awkwardly.  
“I’m gonna turn in.” Carol stands, brushing off her hands on her pants.  
“Me too.” He chews on his thumb a moment. “Night.”  
“Good night, Daryl.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sophia takes a dare and Carol finds Daryl particularly intriguing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of Sophia&Daryl bonding, and more Caryl goodness.

Lori’s kid and Mouselet are whispering furiously behind him. They’re having an argument-- and have been for the last ten minutes. They haven’t moved out behind the log they hid behind and every minute their whispers grow rapid and insistent. Suddenly they stop and he hears the crunch of feet on gravel. Sophia stands in front of him, chewing on her bottom lip.  
“Wachya want?” he asks. He has better things to do than play babysitter.  
“What’re you doing?” Sophia counters. She plops down in front of him, legs crossed and her chin in her hand.  
“‘M cleanin’ my bow.”  
“Why? You did that yesterday.” He looks at her curiously. She pays that much attention to what he does?  
“Gotta do it every time I use it.”  
“Oh. That makes sense.” Sophia scrunches up her nose, face lined in concentration. Suddenly, her face lights up. “Can you teach me how to use it?”  
“Nope. Yer way to scrawny.” It’s all he can do to keep from laughing at her expression. He’s never seen anyone so indignant.  
“I am not!” She is, all arms and legs and he doesn’t think she has a single muscle.  
“It’s heavy. Ya gotta have muscle.”  
Sophia still looks put out but stays and watches him all the same.  
After a few moments of silence he asks, “Ain’t ya supposed to be with yer mama?” Lori and Carol are always telling their kids to stay in sight. Neither of the kids do a very good job though, and panicked yelling from their mothers almost always ensues. Daryl does not want any motherly fury directed at him because he was the one to misplace their kids.  
Sophia looks down at her shoes, tugging on one of her fraying shoelaces. “She’s with Daddy.”  
Daryl is too familiar with this escape. Running away, pretending you don’t know what’s happening? How many times did he disappear into the woods to wait it out? Coming back only when he knew his daddy was passed out in front of the TV smelling like booze and his mama was sobbing in his parent’s bedroom. He feels slightly sick thinking of little Mouselet going through that.  
They sit in silence for the rest of the afternoon. Carl’s wandered off-- probably to bug Shane-- once he realized nothing interesting was going to happen. Sophia watches him closely but says little.  
When Merle shows up, Sophia jumps up brushing off her pants. “I’m gonna go. Mama’s probably looking for me.” She takes off to the other side of camp, trotting back over to her mother.  
Merle watches the entire interaction with a smug grin on his face. “Women sure do like a family man, little brother.”  
“Shut the fuck up Merle.”  
***  
Sophia doesn’t admit to the day’s activities until well after Daddy is seated up on the RV. The fire burns low, just enough to heat up dinner. Everyone is seated around their own fires, so it’s just Sophia and her mother tonight. Mama looks tired, face drawn, and it makes Sophia’s tummy hurt. Daddy hurt her again, she knows it.  
“I talked with Mr. Dixon today. The one whose pants you fixed,” she adds quickly to clarify. The other Mr. Dixon scares her, he’s really big. But the other Mr. Dixon is nice, even if he is really grumpy. When he first arrived he scared her a little bit, just because he looked mean, but he was never cruel.  
“When was that baby?”  
“When you were talking with Daddy.” The bowl of stew is warm in her lap. It’s late summer and it’s way too hot to be having soup, but it’s all they can make. They’re getting low on supplies, and mystery meat stew is really the only thing they have to eat.  
“You shouldn’t bother him Sophia. He’s very busy.”  
“I wasn’t!” She knows better than that. “Daryl’s nice.”  
Her mother smiles sadly at her, leaning over to smooth Sophia’s hair. She doesn’t remember when her mother wasn’t sad. Or scared. Sometimes when Daddy was gone on long work trips. Mama would almost be happy. Her smiles were less forced and the house would be filled with flowers and music. But then the Day Before Daddy Came Home and everything would go grey again. Sophia hated the grey.  
“... he’s doing very important stuff baby. I don’t want you to bother or distract him. Sophia are you listening?”  
“Yeah.”  
Her mother looks at her with one raised brow.  
“Really! You don’t want me to bother him because he’s busy and stuff.” Sophia takes another bite of her stew. She thinks it squirrel, Daryl brought some back with him on his hunt and she feels sad. Thinking about eating cute little squirrels with their fluffy tails makes her stomach turn so she sets her bowl down next to her.  
“Are you done?” Mama asks.  
“Yep.”  
“Have you done your homework?”  
Sophia rolls her eyes. Doing homework at this point seems silly to her, but Mrs. Grimes and Mama have been taking turns teaching her and Carl every day. She doesn’t really struggle with anything any subject. Reading’s better than math though.  
“Yes, Mom.” Sophia gets a smile this time, tinged with a little sadness. “Can we stay up and look at the stars tonight?”  
They’d found a book that listed all of the constellations in the night sky, and they took it upon themselves to try and name them all. They were having moderate success, but it was something they could only do so often.  
“I think so baby. Daddy will be up late on watch.” Sophia smiles brightly at her mother.  
“I’ll get the book.  
Later when the sky’s dark and everyone else has gone to bed, she spots Daryl sitting across the camp from them, shrouded in darkness. Sophia nearly gets up and asks him if he’d like to join her and Mama. But she thinks he’d say no. She watches him for a bit then turns back to the stars. It feels like they are the only three people in the world underneath a dark blanket of stars.  
***  
Sophia doesn’t come around for the next few days, but then she turns up again. She’s noisily chewing bubblegum and sits down in front of him. Daryl’s worried she’s imprinted on him or some shit. Like a duckling and now he’s gonna have to look after her.  
“Gum, huh?’  
“Carl bet me the last two pieces of bubblegum I wouldn’t talk to you the other day.” She says proudly.  
“‘M that scary?”  
“Maybe to Carl but not to me anymore.” He shakes his head. Those kinda thoughts are gonna get this kid killed. “You’re nice.”  
“I ain’t nice.”  
“Yeah you are. And kind.” Now she seems really smug. What is it with this kid?  
“No ‘m not.” He can’t believe he’s having this argument with a twelve year old girl.  
Sophia’s quiet for a bit. “You’re not my daddy.” His gut twists in pain. Fuck, anyone’s nice when compared to her daddy. Daryl must seem like a fucking picnic if her baseline is her Daddy. It doesn’t really make him feel any better that’s where the bar is set at.  
He grunts in agreement. They’re quiet for a few moments, he twirls his crossbow awkwardly. Babysitting was never his thing and he has no idea how to entertain a kid. Not that it’s his job. He could always send her away.  
“Already chew the other piece of gum?”  
“No. I gave it to Carl. It didn’t seem fair that I got two and he didn’t get any.” Sophia takes right after her mama, always thinking about other people and shit. That’s not something he knows how to do.  
Carol hasn’t been around much. Not that Daryl expected her to be hanging around him at all. It’s just he hasn’t seen her since she offered to mend his pants. And he still hasn’t figured out how to pay his debt.  
Sophia asks, “Are you going hunting today?”  
“Yeah. Later prolly.”  
“Can I come?”  
“Hell nah. Yer mama would never let ya.” And he certainly isn’t going to just take her and not tell anyone. That’s a good way to make sure he gets chewed out.  
The camp moves on around them. Andrea and her sister are bickering about something, voices rising and falling. Dale’s trying to fix the RV’s engine, which is a never ending project. There’s the occasional loud bang then slew of muffled curses. Daryl’s thought about offering to look at it, but there’s no point. They don’t trust him. Not that they should. The sounds wash over the two of them, they exist outside of the hustle and bustle of camp.  
Sophia leaves just like she did before. Whatever internal clock going off and then she makes her way back to her mama.  
At least this time Merle isn’t around to make fun of him.  
***  
Carol notices Daryl hasn’t come to get breakfast yet. Not that he is ever one for group meals, but he usually grabs something and finds a corner to hide out in. She makes up a bowl of oatmeal and canned peaches. Breakfast for the day.  
Grabbing a spoon she makes her way over to where Daryl is sitting. He’s apart from the rest of them, his brother nowhere to be found. It’s shaping up to be a warm day. Sweat is starting to gather on her forehead and everyone’s drooping. She has laundry to do today, which means she will at least be able to spend time in the lake.  
“I brought you some breakfast.” She says, carefully placing the bowl and spoon on the ground next to him.  
He mutters out a thanks and begins to eat, using his fingers to pick out the peaches.  
“I hope Sophia isn’t being a bother. I’ve told her to let you be.” Sophia’s always like befriending things that have wanted it the least. Mangy stray cats who were underfed and hissed at anything, dogs that distrusted every person. Their neighbors’ mean ol’ Rottie was Sophia’s first project. After six months he was eating out of the palm of her hand. Literally. And now she’s added grumpy rednecks to her list.  
He shrugs, licking his fingers. “She’s fine.”  
“Well… thank you then. For watching out for her.”  
The tips of his ears turn pink and he shifts awkwardly under her gaze. “Ain’t a bother. She’s a good kid.”  
“How’re the pants holding up?” she asks. He’s been wearing them again and they are taking a beating. Who’s going to win, she wonders, Daryl or his pants?  
“Good. Better than before.” He wipes his face with the back of his hand.  
“Excellent. Next time you have to let me wash them.”  
“Can’t let ya do that. Ya do everything else.”  
“It’s okay. I’m useful this way. Just throw them in with everything else.”  
Nodding he turns back to his meal. This conversation seems to be over.  
“I have to finish serving breakfast.” She turns to leave, only to stop when he calls after her.  
“Hey.” She turns around to face him. “The oatmeal’s real good.”  
“Thank you Mr. Dixon.” Her smile is genuine.  
She goes back to finish serving breakfast, her smile doesn’t slip all morning. Not even when Ed comes by and makes a snide comment about her appearance. Who’d have known that this world would bring hope. The ability to change her life and start over again.  
The day drags on and Carol wants to find a quiet moment to speak with Daryl again. There’s something about him that draws her in.  
But a day turns into two then three then an entire week passes, and she still hasn’t spoken to him. Daryl goes on a two-day hunt and the others-- including his brother-- make a run to Atlanta to scavenge. Carol plans to speak to Daryl when he gets back. Try to bring him out of his shell and let him into the group.  
But Rick Grimes comes back from the dead.  
And turns their lives upside down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First thank you for reading.  
> Second, this is a small part of what will be a series.  
> I hope you enjoy!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed please leave a review. I love to hear your comments. Also you can always prompt me. I love them. You can leave them here or over at thegoldenkittenking.tumblr.com.


End file.
